


Royals - Part IV

by Kit_Kat21



Series: Royals [4]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Modern Era, Modern Royalty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-01-05 03:48:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12182313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kit_Kat21/pseuds/Kit_Kat21
Summary: “I am always on my best behavior,” Jon replied and Sansa’s lips curved into a smile against his ear. “What? I am,” he said as if he was truly offended that his lady wife did not seem to think so. “I still stand that Lord Umber’s man punched himself in the face.”





	Royals - Part IV

…

Jon lifted his head from where he had been kissing the side of his wife’s throat when he heard the familiar click of a camera. His eyes sharply moved quickly around the park, looking for the source, and Sansa wrapped gentle fingers around his arm. 

“Jon, it’s alright. Just ignore them,” Sansa advised, but when they both heard another click, Jon practically growled and Ghost, hearing his owner, began growling, too. Sansa released a sigh and tightened her grip on his arm. “Jon, let’s just go,” she said and took a step back, trying to pull him with her. 

But Jon didn’t move with his wife. 

Instead, his eyes were still searching the empty park, looking for the source of that click.

He hated coming South. Absolutely hated it. And they had only been here for one day and had at least five more to go. It wasn’t as if Jon disliked his Aunt. He just didn’t know her and a part of him didn’t even know if he wanted to. He didn’t feel like a Targaryen and even if his true father had been one, Jon felt absolutely no connection to that family. Dany was kind enough to give the North their independence and Jon had to sign his oath to her that he had no desire in the six other Kingdoms of Westeros. She had a craving for power that he did not understand nor did he share. 

But she was his Aunt and he was King in the North. He had to come in celebration of the news of her pregnancy. There had been no choice in that matter. And it wasn’t as if he didn’t want to celebrate her pregnancy or that he wasn’t happy. He knew how large of an event this was for all six Kingdoms and the North. 

It was just the whole coming South thing. He hated it. The South was too hot; too claustrophobic. Too many people living in too tight of a space. 

Jon couldn’t breathe while in the South.

And his Aunt – though thinking he was crazy – knew that and had offered he and Sansa take their dog, Ghost, to a park near to Red Keep. She had promised that the park would be clear and they would have complete privacy. Sansa had leapt at the offer, knowing how irritated Jon was with everything and they had only just arrived and Ghost fed off of Jon’s emotions and the dog, meant for the snow and cold of the North, but who did allow Jon and Sansa to go anywhere without him – even to the South – was panting and pacing their rooms and would not calm down. 

And for a while, it seemed to be working. 

Jon was actually smiling as he threw the tennis ball for Ghost and he had his arm around Sansa’s waist, keeping her at his side. He had pulled his hair back into a knot – “This fucking heat”, he had grumbled to himself – and Sansa took advantage of the exposed skin, laying kisses along the line of his jaw and his neck.

“Will you be on your best behavior at the dinner tonight?” Sansa murmured to him. 

“I am always on my best behavior,” Jon replied and Sansa’s lips curved into a smile against his ear. “What? I am,” he said as if he was truly offended that his lady wife did not seem to think so. “I still stand that Lord Umber’s man punched himself in the face.”

Sansa laughed though she knew that she shouldn’t encourage him. She couldn’t help it though. Her father had promised her a man just like Jon. Someone brave, gentle and strong and Jon were all of those things ten-fold. He protected her above all others and if he even thought a man’s eyes was lingering on her too long, the man soon learned his mistake. There were very few men left in the North who stared at Queen Sansa. 

But the men in the South did not know that. Sansa was looking forward to the dinner tonight so she could wear her new dress, but she was not looking forward to her husband acting like a complete caveman instead of the King he actually was. 

Jon chucked Ghost’s tennis ball as far as he could and the dog took off after it and Jon then turned his head, burying his face into her throat, his nose nuzzling her jaw, his beard tickling her and making her giggle. 

And that was when they heard the click of a camera. 

“My Aunt swore that we would have privacy,” Jon said, his voice low and hard and the voice always instantly put Sansa on edge because she didn’t know if her husband was going to become the wolf or the dragon. Neither side was the better side. 

“A photographer must have snuck in,” Sansa tried to tell him, keeping her voice calm as her grip on his arm tightened. The last thing anyone needed was the King of the North going after a tabloid photographer. “Jon, let’s return to the castle,” she said, tugging on his arm once more, praying to the Gods that the photographer had gotten his pictures and had been smart enough to leave. 

“Ghost!” Jon called out. “Find him!” He ordered his dog and Ghost was smart enough to know exactly what he was talking about. 

“Jon!” Sansa snapped at him. “No. We are not doing this. You are not going to do this.”

Jon blinked at her as if he didn’t understand. “Not do what?” He frowned. “Not protect your privacy?”

“We don’t live private lives. You know that. You’re always lecturing me about my phone. Let’s just leave him to his pictures and we’ll go back to our rooms.”

“No.”

The answer was short and firm and Sansa stared at him, unable to hide her surprise that he had refused her. She knew she was a spoiled wife, but she truly was not used to Jon refusing her even the smallest thing. 

“Fine,” Sansa said. “Brienne! Jaime!” She called out to hers and her husband’s main guards that trailed after them – discreetly – everywhere they went. 

“I do not need them,” Jon said. 

“No, but I do,” Sansa replied, not looking at him as she watched their guards approach. 

“Your Majesties,” both Brienne and Jaime said. 

“My husband and our dog are going to murder a photographer who has snuck into the park and I would like to keep that from happening,” Sansa informed them. 

Jaime immediately stepped away and began talking into the watch on his wrist to the other guards hidden around their perimeter. 

“Come, Your Majesties,” Brienne offered. “I will make sure you return safely to the castle.”

“I want to stay here and see what pictures have been taken,” Jon said stubbornly. 

“No, you will come back with me,” Sansa took hold of his hand and didn’t let go. “If you stay, you will murder the man and I will have to rule the North and raise our baby on my own and while I know I can do both, I know I do not want to.”

Jon froze in his place and stared at her, his lips parting as if he wanted to say something, but no words came. He actually looked like a fish thrown onto a dock, his mouth hanging open in such a fashion. 

“The baby? You’re…” he finally began to stutter. 

Sansa had not wanted to tell him here. 

She had just found out for certain a few days before and she wanted to tell him once they returned to the North from their trip South. But she could feel the anger radiating off of him and she just wanted to keep him calm. They would make it through their next few days visiting King’s Landing. They always survived, but still, she hated to see how on edge he always became and remained until they were on their way home again. She also did not wish for her own pregnancy news to eclipse that of the other Queen's pregnancy.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Sansa smiled softly at him. “A prince or princess of the North.”

Jon’s eyes did not leave her as his hand lifted to slide onto her cheek and Sansa smiled, tilting her head into his touch. And then, completely forgetting about the photographer who was still hiding in the bushes, Jon’s other hand slid onto her still-flat abdomen. 

He then kissed her and Sansa smiled against his mouth before she sank against him, her hands trailing up to grip his biceps. He kissed her deeply and thoroughly and Sansa wondered if Jon could hear the rapid clicking of the camera or if it was just her. 

…


End file.
